


Ferraristi...and the Men Who Love Them

by gimmefire



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-04-26
Updated: 2010-04-26
Packaged: 2017-12-03 17:09:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/700663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gimmefire/pseuds/gimmefire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>"Like a fucking soap opera in here sometimes." "What do you mean by 'sometimes'?"</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ferraristi...and the Men Who Love Them

Finishing off his apple juice, Rob peered over the rim of his glass to continue paying subtle attention to Fernando and Felipe. The Brazilian had just entered the Ferrari cafeteria and had made his way towards Fernando, already seated with his food. They had greeted each other with a smile, and Felipe rested his hand on the back of Fernando's chair as they talked.

He couldn't hear the ins and outs of the whole conversation, but he could've sworn he heard Felipe say the word 'Michael' and equally could've sworn that Fernando's expression had soured just a bit. Nothing that the oblivious Brazilian would pick up on, just the corners of Fernando's lips dipping briefly, like that name momentarily stuck in his craw. Felipe continued to talk, grinning about something, raising his eyebrow, and Fernando's easy smile returned.

Felipe patted Fernando's shoulder, fingers brushing across his back as he rounded the Spaniard and trotted off to attend to something else. Fernando watched him go, smile staying in place, until he abruptly shook his head and turned his attention back to his pasta. Snapping himself out of it...? Rob had to laugh.

"Like a fucking soap opera in here sometimes," he muttered to himself. Or so he thought; Stefano snorted as he passed Rob's table, making him look up.

"What do you mean by 'sometimes'?"

Rob smiled rather wryly in response and looked back down to his papers. His notes weren't really holding his attention, but there was only so much of _As the Ferrari World Turns_ he could take at one time. He zoned out far enough that he started when a hand ran roughly through his hair, pushing his head to one side.

"That's really helpful," he commented flatly, making a negligible effort to tidy his hair and not bothering to look at whoever the perpetrator was. Not as though it wasn't obvious.

Felipe pulled up a chair and settled next to his engineer, having returned from wherever he had scampered off to with a fruit salad in hand, and peered at the open folder. "Well, you really looked so busy..."

"You not going to eat over there?" Rob asked, ignoring the jibe and nodding towards Fernando across the cafeteria.

Felipe shrugged a shoulder then eyed him. "Do you want to get rid of me?"

Rob gave him a look, his words soft. "Don't be daft." He glanced at Fernando again and looked down at his notes, trying not to appear too obvious.

"I've seen how he looks at you," Rob murmured with a small sigh. "He doesn't do it often, but when he does, he's subtle as a brick. It's like he sometimes forgets himself." He gave Felipe a sly look and couldn't keep the smirk off his face. "I think he's noticed that you swing your hips when you walk, anyway."

Felipe looked at him as though he was growing horns, giving a short, sputtered laugh. "N-no I don't!"

"Yes you do, mate," Rob asserted with a knowing grin, quietly pleased at the faint blush appearing in Felipe's cheeks.

Felipe looked ready to protest again, perhaps louder and in a more indignant fashion, but the dismayed look on his face faded and it came to nothing. He then looked over at Fernando, his expression growing contemplative.

"Do you think I should go and say something?"

This time it was Rob's turn to eye Felipe. He looked between the teammates, tried to read more into Felipe's expression as he watched Fernando, who seemed oblivious to the whole thing. Finding himself biting the inside of his cheek to keep back his initial negative answer, he eventually just shrugged. "S'your shout."

Felipe went quiet for a while, seemingly becoming fascinated by his fruit salad, a deep frown settling on his face. He slid his fork into a chunk of melon, turning the utensil around in his fingers before setting his teeth into the fruit and pulling it free of the prongs. He chewed slowly, looking perplexed throughout. Rob was about to advise him against thinking so hard as his brain might start boiling like a kettle, but Felipe put paid to that with some perturbed sounding words. "Are you sure that it's _me_ he's looking at?"

Rob laughed loudly enough for several Ferrari members to look up from their food, including Fernando. "Oh yeah, you're dead modest, you are!"

"It's a serious question!" Felipe complained, giving Rob a light shove. Rob was not above shoving him back, and things could well have gotten messy had Michael not breezed into the cafeteria at that moment. Felipe positively beamed when he spotted him, rising from his seat and scooting around the table to embrace him warmly.

The touch lingered for too long, as it always did. Michael didn't ever seem to discourage that. Then again, he didn't seem to overly encourage it either.

Rob wondered if Fernando was still watching. He could picture the Spaniard's expression darkening ever so slightly; could picture him taking a big, resentful bite out of the hitherto untouched apple on his table to keep himself from possibly throwing things.

He hoped that he was better at hiding his discontent than Fernando was.

Felipe followed Michael to his own table, pausing only to hastily grab his fruit salad and shoot Rob a distracted smile, and Rob...well, Rob watched him go. He ignored the twinge in his chest that seemed to get a little bit worse at times like this. When Michael was around.

He heaved a sigh and looked back to his notes, not caring about Fernando anymore.

A chair scraped behind him, followed by the sound of cutlery being tidied onto a plate, and a hand patted Rob's shoulder, making him turn his head.

"A soap opera, yes?" Stefano said with a smile, getting up with empty plate in hand. "And we're all playing parts."


End file.
